The War of Blood
by softasthunder
Summary: "We all bleed the same; the only difference is that yours is filled with prejudice."


**Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns any original Harry Potter characters that may appear in this story.**

**Claimer: The remainder of this story including: plot, dialogue, & OC characters, is my original work.**

**No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.**

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_**Author:**__ softasthunder_

_**Timeline: **__1996, few weeks after New Year's Eve_

_**Pairing: **__None_

The War of Blood

OO

She overheard Draco Malfoy brag to his cronies about the Dark Lord, almost immediately after hearing Ron Weasley curse all Slytherins-"Death Eaters in training, that's what they bloody are!"

All these kids, she dimly realized, were completely daft.

None of them seemed to have any life experience; all of them shadowed from the horrors of war. They saw that Dumbledore and Potter were bonkers, the paper was hiding the truth, the Ministry was denying it, and Fudge pretending none of this was happening.

If anyone was bonkers, she thought with fury pulsing through her veins, it would be that toad that hired Umbridge to 'straighten' Hogwarts out.

Cassandra Black's natural cool and calm disposition which she inherited from her dead mother, Dorcas Meadowes, had fled her only to be replaced by her father's recklessness.

Sirius Black and Dorcas Meadowes, once twenty, had gotten drunk at a party and hooked up.

Though they hadn't stayed together, her mother died during an attack shortly after her birth, and Sirius was imprisoned a majority of her life; Cassandra considered herself a lucky individual.

Her life experience had her reading through advanced charms and defense as a child and learning all the magic she could from stolen wands. As such, those were her two best classes. Occasionally, she would even stop slacking off enough to beat Potter on a test.

Both of them shared several similarities yet, she was a Ravenclaw, and he a Gryffindor. They had fought different battles, but the same war.

She had met Harry Potter over the summer. Dumbledore forbade her to spend the summer renting out a flat, and insisted she spend it at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, getting to know her birth-father.

Cassandra realized she had no choice in this matter.

She also realized, Harry Potter and her would never be best friends like their fathers. He was simply too infuriating. (She decided she would spend her summer sneaking out whenever she could to hang out with her batshit insane friends and her newest fling.)

After a month of refusals, she constantly had to restate that she was all fine and bambi. She didn't need to be living with Sirius, and it was better if she just lived her summer as she was.

She was independent, courageous, optimistic, impatient, brilliant, charming, and self-absorbed though that didn't put off her generosity.

Cassandra was a perfect combination of her parents and had enough independence left inside her for her own personality to shine out and enhance the rest of her inherited qualities.

Physically however, Cassandra resembled her godmother and uncle; Lily Potter and Regulus Black. She had thick, soft curls in a deep shade of auburn, and a small, slender figure as well as a few curves in the right places. With dark ocean blue eyes, freckles, and rosy light pink lips, rumors flew that she probably wasn't even heir to the Blacks.

However, Cassandra fumed, that would be perfectly alright with her. Then she wouldn't have to deal with all these thick, blubbering morons. Her lips curled in contempt.

Though not always haughty, that was how she was portrayed through her posture on this specific day.

She was typically the wild kid, the best to have at parties, and overall a good friend. She was relatively popular throughout all of Hogwarts (and downtown London), and most people cheerily waved to her or smiled. Today however, people stopped mid-way at seeing her furious figure stalk to the Great Hall for lunch.

They knew she had gone into frenzy when she heard that that fucking toad had replaced Dumbledore. Instead of occasionally sending Potter and his cronies cold glares, and pretending they didn't even exist, Cassandra decided enough was fucking enough.

It was beyond mad that people were like sheep. They were constantly flocking their opinions based upon the Prophet, which of course wasn't even reliable because it favored the Ministry's side rather than justice and truth.

She felt her insides boil with rage.

Stomping into the Great Hall, she saw Malfoy and his little gang leering over Potter and his friends.

The new goddamn Headmistress wasn't even stopping him from deducting point-these were fucking kids who offered to be in her shitty little squad, not people who deserved it. They already had fucking perfects, why did Hogwarts need this stupid squad.

Marching over to them, she whipped her wand out the second she heard Malfoy's voice speak the word 'mudblood'.

Silently she cut open both Malfoy and Hermione Granger's skin, their blood trickling out. They both looked up in shock, and before Malfoy could take points off Ravenclaw, she spoke.

"Look at it. Look fucking at it, Malfoy, Weasley, Potter, whoever the fuck else has a goddamn brain cell." Her words were icy and burning at once, effortlessly summoning them to obey her command.

"Tell me Malfoy, do you see any dirt or mud coming out of Granger?"

She could see his expression turn, the way he bit the inside of his cheek, the way he clenched knuckles and ever so slightly curled his lip.

"No." He responded coolly.

"What color is it then?" She questioned.

"Red."

He knew the point she had made, even Weasley's thick skull could understand it wasn't just in defense of all Muggleborns and Half-Bloods out there.

"Look around!" She called loudly, purposefully attracting the attention of the teachers, headmistress, and students.

"A pureblood and a muggleborn, both bleeding the same exact shade of red; not a speck of dirt is confided inside Granger's blood, you see, proving the term 'mudblood' invalid, and thus, showing the student body that if an individual uses that word, they're clearly and completely daft."

She noticed students from every house, some were furious at being called stupid, others appreciative of her demonstration.

"Miss Black," Umbridge began, voice quavering, not knowing if she should tell off the heir to the most noble and ancient family, or not.

Cassandra carried on, ignoring the headmistress.

"Bragging about serving the Dark Lord is pure idiocy, bragging about being in Gryffindor is pure idiocy as well."

"I understand that a lot of Death Eaters tend to be Slytherins, but it's been proven, time and time again, that people from all houses join Voldermort."

The shrieks of his name made her roll her eyes. How could they be afraid of a name if they didn't even believe the individual holding it was breathing? Stupid.

"It isn't just Slytherins being branded by Voldermort, and yes that is a present term," She said venomously, shooting Umbridge a dark look, making McGonogall and Flitwick cover their beams of pride. Though she nimbly noticed most of these teachers, excluding Snape, seemed proud.

She faced Ron Weasley. She knew the guy had a good heart, but he was still oblivious and narrow-minded himself in a lot of common ways. "And that goes for Gryffindors as well."

"All of us," She spread her arms, now facing Hogwart's population. "are in this war together, whether we acknowledge its existence or not, or believe in Dumbledore or the Ministry. There is a war going on, and it's only too easy for them to kill us off separately rather than united. It's easier for Voldermort to finish off Potter if he isn't surrounded by his friends or people fighting on the same side as he is. It's been proven, so many fucking times. Look back and read the articles, break into the Prophet and go through the files, look at their mangled bodies that were never published. Their deaths were considered non-existing almost as they were piled into numbers rather than names. We're at war-we're in a war because of fucking blood. Because Voldermort doesn't like Muggles, even though they've reached beyond us in so many ways. I mean, we haven't even discovered pants or electricity yet. It's rather pathetic. I use pens, not quills, and when the hols are in session, I'm in the Muggle world and I live with a mixture because there are fantastic aspects of each world."

She faced Draco Malfoy. She knew him better than Potter, spoke to him more frequently and didn't pretend he was a meager annoyance she was forced to deal with.

"By becoming a Death Eater, you're playing God. You suddenly are given this unknown, infinite, unlimited usage with your magic; and you now decide who lived and who dies by your hand. Draco, you aren't filled with power because you carry a wand and your family has worn robes longer then Granger's has. Voldermort can kill you in a second."

"The Muggles have already faced this exact situation in the 40's, and guess what? That leader, who gave others power and had people play God, killed himself in the end."

"No human has the right to determine whether another lives or dies based on their history. It's absolutely atrocious."

She was suddenly losing her hold of emotions. Her mind was spinning wildly and she couldn't stop the annoyance and anger from tainting her voice.

"We all bleed the same; the only difference is that yours is filled with prejudice."

She had to leave. She could be killed off grounds, but it was rather unlikely. Voldermort won't blow his cover on some moody sixteen year old girl.

Turning on her heels, all she felt was an indescribable rage at the stupidity of the Wizarding world.

Her body was shaking with constrained emotions. Corridors and floors passed her in a blur and she seemed to fly from the Great Hall. Once walking, she had then broken into a run, and impulsively turned her wand against the stone wall, blowing it open.

The rubble of her explosion was scattered everywhere, and the smoke was suddenly curling around her so thickly it kept her from moving. With a wave of her wand she rid the corridor of it all. All that was left was Cassandra Black panting, staring at her destruction. Her emotions took over her body, leaving her feeling much like the rubble that surrounded her.

She slid against the wall, a newfound exhaustion bleeding its way inside of her, filling her bones and shoving off the rage to another place inside of her.

Cassandra never understood how people could just be influenced so _easily. _To act as though they had no brains, and didn't even bother to think or care about the truth, only what the newspapers published.

This whole-this, this _thing _was driving her bloody fucking mad.

It was as though wizards and witches, thinking they're better than muggles because they had a fucking stick that shot out sparks. Muggles fared so well without magic. Girls were wearing jeans, and wizards probably wouldn't discover denim for another hundred years.

She ran her hand through her hair, letting out a deep sigh.

Light, hurried footsteps approached her and her friend came into view.

"Cassie," Anastasia's soothing voice said, "C'mon, let's get the fuck outta here and find something to do. Maybe we could even apparate to London or something. Or we could just to Hogsmeade and try to build that half-pipe."

Cassandra laughed. If there was something her boyfriend had gotten her into it was skateboarding.

"Hey, come on, it's the 90's, almost the 2000's! Let's have some fucking fun." Anastasia's wild grin sparked Cassandra's wildness and she was suddenly thankful for her best friend.

She reflected on their adventures-getting so drunk Anastasia had let Cassandra dye her hair purple, or when Cassandra pierced her tongue web after snorting the blow-these two girls were unrestrained and free. Nothing could hold them or their adventures down. Sure, they might have been crazy, but they were young.

Just because there was a war around didn't mean that it would put a damper on their lives.

Cassandra and Anastasia wanted to look back and be _happy, _to live life with no regrets and pass it's limits. They were already so serious and sorrowful with the war, especially now that Voldermort was resurrected into a human body.

The implications of this, of what was sure to come, Cassandra and Anastasia wanted to spend the next (six months they had left of freedom-they would never be able to foretell the horrors that they would soon be facing.) however long, they didn't know, living life.

Cassandra smiled at her friend, and stood up. "Let's get out of these bloody uniforms first." She suggested, linking arms with Anastasia.

Anastasia's tongue slipped between her teeth in her trademark grin, at Cassandra, who grinned back widely-yes today was sure to be another adventure.

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_A/N: Tell me if you'd like me carry on with this, please! I was considering writing their adventure out as a chapter, and then taking the story as the next six months of their last freedom before the war really breaks lose. _

_Reviews are highly appreciated, as always c: _

_-Thunder xx  
_


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